Chapter 165
Chapter 165
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 165
Chapter Title: Clumsy Cultist
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In the darkness, Paranoya's scarlet eyes gleamed.
Maybe it was because they were orange, but at night, they looked pretty scary. Like a beast's eyes flashing.
In reality, the current Paranoya was no different from a beast.
If I failed to stroke her ego just right,
She might scamper off to Luna, whom she followed like an older sister, and tattle, "Lady Luna! While I was sleeping, that jerk Hassan groped my thigh...!"
Then I might get all my hair yanked out by Luna yelling, "Hassan, you're awful!" followed by a kick.
It felt so vivid, like I'd seen the future. Goosebumps for real.
Was this the realm of Observation Haki I'd only heard about? Haki evolves in dire situations, or so I'd heard. And here I was, right in one.
To avert that future, I racked my brains to beguile Paranoya's heart and mind.
Damn, any good ideas?
"L-Lord Hassan, you really are Lord Pluto's son...?"
In that sense, Paranoya was walking right into her own trap. I could use her current misunderstanding of me to my advantage.
From the first time we met, she'd pegged me as some kind of cultist, which had proven useful in many ways.
So I mentally apologized to my parents back home somewhere: Forgive me for pretending to be someone else's son just this once. It's to protect my son's honor—they'd understand.
"Yeah, uh, what can I say. I am Pluto's son."
Regret hit me the second I finished the sentence. Did I really have to go this far? And would Paranoya even buy such a lie?
"Y-Yes...! My eye for talent is spot on...! I'm not an idiot...!"
She bought it.
Paranoya even marveled at her own uncanny insight, trembling in awe.
Shaking like that, she looked ready to burst into tears any second.
"Lord Hassan, th-then why are you living among ordinary folk? What's the reason for pretending to be a dimwitted Samaritan...?"
"Pretending to be a dimwitted Samaritan?"
Damn, caught off guard—like a solid body blow to the solar plexus. Paranoya, this punk, was sneakily formidable.
The biggest dimwit thought I was a dimwitted Samaritan all along? Felt like smacking her forehead.
But if I took the bait here, it might arouse her suspicions and lead straight to the "Hassan, you're awful!" ending.
I had to protect my future household.
"Uh, what can I say. It's all deception tactics. To fool the enemy."
The more lies piled up, the heavier my shoulders and chest felt. Was this the weight of being head of the house?
Luckily, my efforts weren't wasted—Paranoya's reaction was bright.
"The enemy...! Lord Pluto's enemies! You were deceiving those rotten temple knights! Such brilliant acting...! Even I, Pluto's top devotee, Paranoya, nearly fell for it completely...!"
You're already hooked, kid. Of course, she didn't realize it. Guess I'm one step ahead.
But this punk, who flipped between conversions and betrayals whenever she got the chance, calling herself Pluto's top devotee? What a damn nylon cultist.
Not important right now, though.
I cleared my throat with a dignified cough and spouted whatever came to mind.
"True deception starts by fooling your allies before the enemy, Paranoya. Anyway, figuring out my identity—very top devotee of you."
Emphasizing "top devotee," I patted her head. Was it scented oil? Her crimson hair felt incredibly soft to the touch.
Paranoya didn't know how to react to the praise.
"Eeee— I was right to pretend to betray Lord Pluto... You've been silent till now to test me, right...?"
"Yeah, uh, something like that. Anyway, you pass."
"Yay! I pass! I passed...!"
She bounced and squealed at my words. Startled that she might wake Luna, I clapped my hand over her tiny mouth.
"Shh, shh— Quiet. This is our secret, just you and me."
She nodded at my words. When I released her mouth, she whispered like some scheming villain.
"Lady Luna doesn't know yet...?"
"Nope."
"As expected... You're using one of Hell's 24 secret arts: the False Prophet's Trick. Secrets mustn't leak...!"
"False what?"
"The 16th of Hell's 24 secret arts. 'The False Prophet's Trick'... Lord Pluto's son is a monster who wields Hell's 52 secret arts, right?"
Fuck, what the hell? 24 secret arts, but then suddenly 52? The more we talked, the more my head spun. Like my brain was twisting.
From what I gathered, in Paranoya's mind, Pluto's son was some Kamen Rider type with killer moves.
Was Paranoya testing me? Looking down on me?
The 21st-century society I knew was ruled by media.
My brain, forged by all sorts of text, images, and videos, quickly outlined what Paranoya imagined: Pluto's son, demon god's heir, hell's grand duke.
All I had to do was act the part.
"Right, Hell's 24 secret arts. Hell's son feels no pangs of conscience even when lying."
"As expected of the world's most ruthless villain. The epitome of a scoundrel...!"
What the damn?
Ha—.
Honestly, I just wanted to end this and sleep. Most important now: tell Paranoya to keep today's events secret.
"Paranoya, today's events—and my identity—never tell anyone. Keep it secret."
"...E-Even to fellow Pluto devotees?"
"Yeah, only you know. You're, uh, my right hand now that you passed the test."
"M-Me, your right hand...? Not Anxius, Somnia, Skizo, or the boss—me, Paranoya, Lord Hassan's right hand...? I'm so moved...!"
She was shocked and thrilled to outrank those other big-shot cult priests. Just as I'd planned.
Then, as if curious, she asked a few words.
"But what's in it for a right hand? Any perks...?"
Perks? Perks, huh. Fair point. What perks for Hell's grand duke Hassan's right hand?
"C-Could I get gold coins...?"
Gold coins? I don't even have those.
I racked my brains for the best excuse. Time to fire up this 21st-century college boy's noggin.
I'm about twice as smart as Paranoya, so twice as plausible an answer. My brilliant mind quickly computed a fitting response.
"As my right hand, someday when I take the throne of ruler... I'll give you 5% stake in the world I rule."
"...5% of Hell!"
Total bullshit, of course. No way I'd become ruler. Classic real estate scam with fake property.
"5% of Hell means I, Paranoya, could be a Hell baron—no, count...!"
But oblivious to my thoughts, she beamed at her future title.
Seeing that, I felt a twinge of guilt.
Truth is, I'm no hell's son or monster with killer moves—just average Joe Hassan, conscience gnawing at every lie.
Not just anyone can lie or do bad shit.
Still, I had to drive the point home.
In a grave, ominous voice like a true demon god's son, I hammered it in.
"But my right hand bears heavy responsibility. Fail to keep the secret, and you'll be cast into the darkest depths of Tartarus, even deeper than its floor—Nox's domain."
"Ee, eeee...."
Her joy vanished like a lie; she shrank in fear at my threat.
Good thing I'd studied the encyclopedia on Pluto's labyrinth, this world's hell Tartarus, and its domain lords.
Knowledge does pay off eventually.
Now, conversation wrapped up.
As I thought about sleeping, I noticed Paranoya blinking at me.
"Head up to the second floor and sleep already. Or do you have more to say?"
"Lord Pluto must have heard my prayers after all...!"
"Prayers?"
What now? Before I could ask, the ditch water nymph started babbling.
"Every night in the cave, waiting for Mother, I prayed to Lord Pluto. But after He first appeared, I never got a response again...!"
Tears welled up in her orange eyes, big drops falling. In the dim moonlight through the first-floor window, they sparkled brightly.
In my mind, I pictured her: hidden in a pitch-black cave, the young nymph waiting for a mother who might never return.
In this world full of nymph predators, she'd hidden from them.
Curled up there, how lonely and scared must she have been, praying nightly with no reply?
From what I'd seen, Paranoya was dim but not bad. If gods existed, they could've answered her once.
No fondness for this Pluto god. Total demon god type.
Not my place to judge.
I'd groped this innocent girl's thigh and now lied to her. Heart pounding, face burning—dying here. Total villain.
Oblivious, she wiped her streaming tears with her hand.
"But His son appearing before me like this... My prayers weren't in vain... Tears won't stop...!"
"Yeah, well, He heard them all. Just busy. Hell gets swamped with the dead—tons of paperwork."
"As expected...! As top devotee, I knew it all along...!"
Anyway, midnight freak show over.
Calming her choked sobs, she padded barefoot up the stairs to her blanket beside Luna.
I watched her back uneasily.
I'd told her to keep it secret, but with her clumsiness, who knows.
Should I use memory erasure like Hippolytë did on me? Safer bet.
But that's forbidden stuff—might erase Paranoya herself, not just the memory.
Then she turned back for one last word.
"Um, Lord Hassan...!"
"What now? Go sleep."
"If you're truly Lord Pluto's son... Could you show me necromancy...?"
"Necromancy?"
"I want to see you wield death's magic... Then I'd really believe you're the god's son...!"
What would a smooth talker say?
"Little nymph, greater blessings come to those who believe without seeing."
"B-But... Without seeing it myself, today's tales are too hard to swallow. Can't sort it out...!"
"Yeah, fair enough."
I rummaged through the bone jar on the first floor. Luna had stuffed it with unknown beast bones for her shady potions.
Grabbed a handful of bone chunks, tossed them on the floor casually, and muttered,
"...Rise."
Bones clattered, assembling into a bizarre form.
Soon, it took the shape of a small child. A kid? I jolted. The little nymph spoke.
"Bone goblin...! Basic necromancy...! But channeling it so fast without spells or magic circles...!"
Paranoya trembled in genuine shock. I was scared too—afraid someone else might see, or Luna wake up.
What would Luna think if she saw me do necromancy? Hate me as a cultist? Could pass it as voodoo, maybe. But no appetite for that risk.
"There, good enough?"
I punched the dumbstruck bone goblin on the floor. My strength 12 fist shattered it into debris, collapsing in a heap.
"Lord Hassan, I'll work harder...!"
"Nah, tone it down a bit. Time hasn't come yet. Stay low till then—like a lion hiding claws in the brush."
"A lion..."
"Yeah, a lion stalking prey. No heavy breaths, no rustles. That's us. Got it?"
Worried she'd get overzealous and cause trouble.
So I ordered her: Do nothing, act normal, pretend ignorance like always.
"You're still a Hearth Goddess devotee outwardly. Act the part, even if inside you're not."
"G-Got it...! Steal info from the temple knights at the Hearth temple. It's tight with Jupiter's knights!"
"Yeah, something like that. Anyway, topic closed. Don't bring it up again. End of story."
She chewed her lip like she had more to say, but my firm declaration left her wistful.
My serious face worked; she climbed the stairs fully and lay beside Luna's blanket.
Soon, even breathing from the little girls.
Only then could I sigh in relief.
What the fuck kind of night was this.
Mentally drained, I went down to the first floor, spread a mat, and lay on it.
Tossing to sleep, something sharp poked my back. Whole world out to get me?
Nah, just remnants of that bone goblin I hadn't cleaned up.
"...Rise."
I sat up and muttered like to myself.
Something rose bumpily from under the mat, soon forming a tiny imp's shape.
Clack, clack.
Eerie sight. Bluish glow flickered in the sockets of the skull pieced from jagged bones—gave me chills.
"Back in there. That jar over there."
Clack.
It obeyed, slipping into the bone-filled jar.
"Now, disperse."
Whoosh—
Bones scattered everywhere with a racket. No need to smash; "disperse" made them crumble on command.
Fuck, honestly mind-blowing.
Be cool to research this more.